Britainia Black: The Madness Begins
by BlackIvory
Summary: Alternate universe fanfic. The story centers around Britainia Solara Black and the events of her life.
1. Prologue

Noon  
"Why should we trust you, Regulus? You're a Death Eater!" Sirius snarls.  
Regulus bows his head, drawing his 3-year-old daughter near. Speaking with innocence, with perfect truth, Britainia says, "They killed Mommy. To hurt Daddy, they killed Mommy. But we can make him, the Dark Lord, pay for what he's done." They stare at her.  
"Do you trust me now? I wouldn't involve my own daughter in any of this unless I had no choice. Please, just take these sketches and finish it."  
"Very well, Regulus," says Dumbledore. "But you must be there with us."  
Taking a deep breath, Regulus nods. "I expected as much. But someone must watch Britainia. I can't leave her to the mercy of my mother."  
Sirius nods in solemn agreement. "I can watch over her until your return."  
"No, Sirius. James and I will. She can have a little sleep over with Harry," Lily interrupts. With that settled, those going Disapparate.

Midnight  
In silence, four figures approach the gates of a mansion.  
"State your business," the gates command.  
"I seek an audience with the Dark Lord, to beg his forgiveness and introduce new followers to him," Regulus answers. The gates melt away at his touch. "Walk swiftly and silently. None will awaken. I frequently come here so late, bringing converts to meet him. It is the only time I can safely do so."  
"This is where he's been hiding? The Malfoys?" Sirius asks incredulously.  
"Yes," his brother answers simply. The doors open as they near. Without pause, they cross the threshold. A house-elf appears.  
"Is you looking for the Dark Lord, Master Regulus?"  
"Yes, Dobby. The study?"  
"Indeed. He fell asleep at the desk. I'll go wake him."  
"That won't be necessary, Dobby. Go back to bed. Oh, and forget we were ever here. You are never to mention our presence to anyone at any time, EVER. That's an order," says Regulus quietly.  
"Yessir," answers a confused Dobby, disappearing into the kitchens.  
Walking forward to the slightly ajar door before them, Regulus motions for silence. He carefully opens the door -  
To find his Master wide awake and waiting.  
"I thought you might come, Regulus. Who are these?" comes the cold, high-pitched voice of Lord Voldemort.  
"Converts, my Lord."  
"Such lies, Regulus. Who are they?" Voldemort replies silkily.  
With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore freezes Voldemort into immobility.  
"This is the end, Tom. No Horcruxes left to protect you," he says solemnly, pulling out the remains of 5 mangled objects.  
Tom's eyes widen in terror.  
A green flash.


	2. Chapter 1

Present day8 years later

**Present day8 years later**

_June 21__st__, 2001—8:30 A.M.:_

"Miss Britainia, breakfast is ready," croaks a wizened old house-elf from the bedroom/study's door. "Is you coming?"

"I'll be down momentarily, Kreacher," responds a distinctly American voice. Kreacher shudders, knowing he'll never get used to how jarring Americans sound. He hopes Britain will soften her voice.

"I'll inform Master Regulus." Shutting the door quietly, Kreacher heads down to the kitchen. Britainia smiles to herself.

'Shame he hates my voice.' Sighing, she rises from her stool and lays her pencil down on the easel. A woman's half-finished portrait sits upon it. 'One day, this will be finished, Mother. Don't worry.'

At the door, she glances back at the portrait that is gradually becoming her mother Nadia, a work in progress for nearly 8 years. "I miss you, though I barely remember you," she murmurs.

On the way downstairs, she runs into Anoria, her stepmother.

"Morning, Britainia."

"Good morning, Anoria. I trust you slept well?"

"Quite, thank you. Did you sleep at all last night? You look exhausted," Anoria asks solicitously.

"Sleep did not come last night. I worked on Mother's portrait some more. It's half-finished," Britainia replies as they continue downward.

"Perhaps we may see it…?"

"Not until it's finished," she says sharply. Anoria drops the subject. Upon their entrance to the breakfast nook, Regulus rises to meet them.

"Morning, love. Morning, Tania."

"Morning," they reply brightly, their discussion forgotten. Sitting once more, Regulus says, "Kreacher tells me you were in your studio this morning. Were you up all night?"

"Yes, Papa," she replies sheepishly.

"I'm going to start giving you a sleep draught again if this keeps up. You need to sleep," he says sternly, buttering a scone. Britainia is about to reply when Nuviel and Kreacher enter with food and post, respectively. "What's in the post today, Kreacher?" Regulus asks as he is handed the paper, The Daily Prophet.

"A letter from Master Sirius, another from the Potters, another from Phoenix Farms for Miss Anoria, and 2 for Miss Britainia."

"Who from?"

"Young Master Romulus aaand…Hogwarts." Spluttering over his tea, Regulus stares at Kreacher as Britainia takes the envelopes.

"Hogwarts?! Do not joke with me Kreacher!"

"He's not Papa. They have asked me to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Silence envelopes the table as she opens her cousin's letter and peruses it. Glancing up at the end of a paragraph, she finds her father and Anoria giving her the oddest of looks. "Is something wrong?" she asks curiously.

"Britainia, dear…It's always been assumed that you're, well, a Squib. You have never exhibited the slightest bit of magical talent," Anoria explains. "This letter comes as a great and wonderful surprise. You're magic after all!"

"Yes, Tania…You really do have the magic," Regulus murmurs happily. "You'll attend, of course."

"I hadn't much thought on it. I suppose I shall attend, if it will make you happy. It matters not to me, one way or another," she replies calmly, returning to her cousin's letter.


End file.
